A Kiss Goodnight
by Anarchous Drake
Summary: A couple of dancers at the gay bar the Amigo have their world turned upside down by a mysterious businessman.
1. A Kiss Goodnight

The rain falls like a wall of tiny icicles, stinging like the sense of longing nipping at my heels like a hungry animal. Streetlights provide dim, wavering circles of fluid gold which pierce the night like a knife. Besides the black holes which prove to be puddles as a flashy Mercedes flies past, splattering the already damp sidewalks, there's little to obstruct my path.

It's a perfect night, really. Nothing but the far away cry of sirens disturbs the calm silence. Still the uneasiness which tightens like a cold fist around my gut doesn't relent. There's no sounds, no footsteps behind me, but I know that there's eyes on me, watching my every move. Some call that paranoia; I call it instinct.

I round a corner and pull my Marlboro's from an inside pocket in my coat and slide the cancer stick between my lips. Next comes the lighter, the stubborn thing merely sparking a few times before reluctantly flickering into glowing life. Smoke pours past my cracked lips in a gusty sigh; I always seem to need a cig while on the job.

The chill kiss of a baretta presses against my temple and I swear every muscle in me goes taut. Hot breath whispers across my neck and I feel the press of two hot breasts pressing into my back even through the chill leather. The wariness from earlier returns; the girls of Old Town were usually more dangerous than any hit man if you crossed them.

"Ace... Hello." the exotic purr somehow manages to conjure up every dirty fantasy I've ever harbored about a woman, just like it was meant to.

"Heya, Gail." I'm proud of myself when my voice doesn't waver.

This woman, more than any other, causes almost any man's pulse to jump in equally painful amounts of fear and arousal. Tying a man down and giving him a ride he'll never forget is Gail's speciality. She's fire to my ice, a fire so consuming that it'd burn me alive if I let it. Dwight and I are suckers like that.

"Odd, catching you in this part of town." The gun slides lower, down my throat, to rest on my collar bone.

It happens every time, this calculated seduction. Just the thought of having to cross through the Valkyrie's territory causes the hairs at the back of my neck to stand on end. I doubt that there's anyone at the Amigo who wouldn't jump at the opportunity to be in my shoes; well, except the gay ones.

"Just out for a smoke." I respond, cool and calm, despite the little backflips that my stomach seems to be doing.

"Liar. You're on patrol, aren't you?" There's little use in disputing the point.

As far back as a I care to remember, I've been a dancer for those with more exotic tastes. Leather and stainless steel chains and spikes glow a deep blood red to accentuate the mood. They all know what I dabble in. Usually it adds that extra flare to get the crowd hard and panting; there's blood on these hands, and every one of them knows it.

"Comes with the job, babe." my voice slides into a low rumble which is all business.

Gail shivers behind me, wether from the chill or that dark note which has creapt into my voice, I can't tell. The gun dissapears, along with the sleak heat of her body. Slowly I turn, the steely blue of my eyes as I take her in. Another shiver, this one coarsing through her entire form; from here on, it's the same old game.

I press her back against the ancient bricks of a just as ancient building and she goes without a fight. Our mouths mesh in a passionate battle for dominance, our hands relearning the planes which we've explored time and time again. It's an embrace that is all lust and longing, accented with the taste of semen and cigarette smoke.

We're two hookers in the same town, two leaders which everyone looks up to and counts on to do the right thing. Together we make a pair which practically rule Old Town. Two people who seem magnetically attracted to one another, yet really have interests elsewhere.

She tells me that I'm enough like Dwight that she can close her eyes and pretend my hair is wavy instead of bone straight. Deft fingers can roam over my scarred chest and belly and ignore the risen flesh. the tattoos can dissapear, replaced by unmarred, smooth skin. For just one night she can believe.

I willingly give that to her whenver we meet, and she gives me just as much. Collin comes to life beneath my fingertips and moans at my touch. If I concentrate hard enough, I can pretend her voice is a little deeper, her skin a little firmer.

We fuck there in that cold, dark alley and afterwards Gail straightens her gear and saunters off like the pro she is. We exchange winks, one whore to another, as I zip up my pants and straighten my jacket. I've still got another hour or so on patrol before I can take a trip to Katie's and drink myself stupid.


	2. Dwight and Shellie

Dwight's such a perceptive little fuck. I've just finished my first shot when he slides onto the stool next to me. His eyes focused briefly on the erotic show Nancy's doing. The son of a bitch barely bats an eye before that calculating gaze falls on me.

Our personalities are similar, but not close enough to make us irritate the shit out of one another. Dwight's more like fire concealed by a coating of thin ice. He's calm, but doesn't have that chill aura, like me. Perhaps it's my resmblance to a slightly more talkative Miho that attracts him. That or my ass in leather.

"Long night?" he asks, a knowing glint in his eye.

"That woman of yours is a handful." I respond with a mild glare as a hint for him to shut up.

"Shellie?" There's the barest hint of amusement in his voice.

"No. The other one."

"Claire?"

I scowl at his feigned ignorance, despite the fact that this is all just part of the game. That's what Sin City thrives on afterall; lies and games which are more habit than anything. That doesn't really mean I have to like it, though.

"Gail, Dwight. Gail."

"Ah... My warrior woman." His eyes seem to fog for a moment before I catch his attention again.

"Yeah, she's prolly one of the reason's Club Pecos makes such a profit."

He arches a brow, but says nothing. Both eyes have now shifted and locked on the slender form of Shellie emerging from the back with a tray full of drinks. I see the way the chill facade melts for an instant, revealing the warmth and raging fire beneath.

That simple look has always been what attracted me to him; the pure, raw, heat of the man. He has an aura that isn't hostile, yet not quite friendly, either. He's like a big cat, all laid back until you piss him off then there's no saving you.

"...Shellie's prolly another." I can't help the smug note which creeps into my voice.

The dark look he shoots in my direction is halfhearted at best. He knows that I'm absolutely right. Ever since that incident with Jackie Boy, him and Shellie've been getting closer and closer. It's sweet, really; Dwight deserves a good woman like her.

"She should join us... Later." I slide a bit closer and let that dangerous tone slide into my voice as our thighs brush.

It's really no secret that I'm polyamorous and revel in the fact. Dwight's only given in a couple times out of the hundreds of nights I've tried, but it was well worth it. He's not a man dictated by his guilty pleasures, and I respect that.

I'll have to admit that the thought of having both of them is tantalizing. However, I doubt that I'd wedge myself between those two. Together, they make something beautiful, untouchable, and I'd never break something like that just for a quick tumble.

"Go find Collin." Comes the other man's low response.

I start, and know the bastard felt it due to the soft, rumbling chuckle that passes his throat. Dwight knows that I'm helplessly infatuated with Collin. Most people except for that blue eyed beauty know, really. God, I hate my life all of a sudden.

"Don't bring him up." Only a few words and my mood goes to shit.

"Right..."

With that, both our eyes shift to the stage to watch Nancy. We're basically the same, Nancy and me. Except she's had her love wrenched away from her brutally, and mine is merely untouchable and beyond my reach. Godammit, Collin.


	3. My Angel

It's my night to work the streets and I'm not looking forward to it. Instead, I lose myself in the steady thump of the hardcore techno beating in the background. Heavy chains jangle as I jerk and sway, moving savagely with the music, sweat trickling down my barely concealed chest and back. Each drop seems to turn to shimmering rivulets of blood in the red light, accenting the curves and dips of muscle and bone.

There's equal amounts of attention fixed on me and the angel swaying sensually beside me. Clothed all in white, he looks like some angel of lust and sex, all ethereal and pure. Collin. He's the light to my darkness.

Our hands meet and mesh, our backs pressing together as we grind back against one another. I barely hear the whistles and throaty cries as my angel rests his head back onto my shoulder. So trusting. It makes my heart clench when I remember that this is all an act and that he really isn't mine.

The song ends and he gives my hand a squeeze before pulling away. It's back to being Ace and Collin; two seperate beings unconnected and alone. That place in my chest where my heart should be feels cold and empty. Collin, you're killing me.

Heaving a sigh, I trudge across the room, barely managing a growl and a few dirty looks directed at the patrons who grope me as I pass. I'm not in the mood to act tonight. I enter the locker room, intent on switching into my street clothes, and pause. Collin... Fuck.

There he sits, perched like a saint in a confessional on one of the dirty, old, benches. His eyes fall on me, their depths liquid and warm like the still, glassy ocean, shimmering in the mid-day sun. His hair falls messily before them as he stands, each lock shimmering like sun-kissed wheat. God, Collin, you're killing me.

"Heya, Ace." His smile... So warm and easy.

"Collin..." I'm surprised I'm able to say anything at all; damn, I've got it bad.

He doesn't move, merely stands and watches me for a moment. I must look dark, sinful, and cheap in my work clothes when not illumined in the blood red light. Compared to him, I must seem like some demon from the darkest pits of hell in those eyes of his.

"You're going out onto the streets tonight, aren't you? Why?" The question startles me more than a little.

I shrug. "I need the extra money."

Damn, I'm good. My voice is calm and my stride even as I move to my locker and enter the combination. I feel his puzzled gaze on my back as I begin to strip, shamless after years of selling myself on the streets.

"...Are you saving to buy your way out of Old Town?" The question is hesitant but firm; my angel's strong.

"Nah. Not me." Actually, I add mentally, I'm saving to get YOU out.

The unspoken words seem to dangle in the air, just waiting for Collin to snatch them up. I hear him shift and take a few steps forward, pressing his leather clad hips into my bare backside. I freeze for a moment, listening to the creak of leather as he shifts, thinking that I must be dreaming, and he wraps a strong arm around me, tentatively running a gloved hand up to trace the long, diagonal scar on my chest. He seems so wary of me, as if I'll turn into a snarling animal at any moment.

"You're so tired, Ace..." From the way he talks, he probably means more than just physically.

"I'll be fine." I don't move, far too afraid that this really IS a dream.

"Ace, skip a night." It's more a plea than anything.

"Look, Collin-"

"Just... Please. You push yourself too hard. You need to be well rested if you're going to protect us."

"Babe-"

"Come home with me tonight."

My stomach must've dropped clear through the floor. Collin must have felt me tense, cus his hand is sliding in slow, easy motions over that scar that he seems to like so much. His cheek's pressed against my bare shoulder, the light stubble, so pale it's virtually invisible, rubbing against my skin. I feel him smile against me and almost bristle.

"What's so funny?" It's sharper than I intended, merely revealing my embarassment with the whole situation.

"Nothin. Just never envisioned you as the shy type." I can practically taste the smugness in his tone.

"I'm not fucking shy." I growl, even as I feel revealing warmth crep into my cheeks.

"Does the fact that you haven't killed me yet mean you're gonna skip you're shift?"

"Guess so..."

-

It wasn't the best place in the world, but it seemed like heaven compared to mine. Everything's neat, but lived in, and at least the fridge's stocked. The angel before me hands me an opened beer and I take it without question. Now dressed in his casual clothes, Collin perches on the arm of the huge chair I'm sprawled in, his eyes veiled, molten sapphires.

"I've never seen you in anything except leather..." He murmurs, leaning in closer than I'm comfortable with to take me in.

"I work a lot." What an understatement; I work all the fucking time.

"I like seeing you like this. All relaxed and content."

I don't know why I even attempt to talk, cus Collin's in his own little world. He stares at me, entranced like a moth by a flame. I take my time in admiring him, then, drinking in the sight of him. Collin's perfection coated in honey. Some one like me doesn't deserve some one like him.

"You're gorgeous beneath it all, Ace." The voice is almost too close and it jarrs me from my thoughts.

He's hovering above me now, one hand braced on the back of the chair. That same, warm smile curves his lips as he watches me. My pulse jumps when he lets out a light chuckle and merely manage to give him a mildly confused look.

"Gorgeous... But clueless, and so very obvious."

I frown at that, the look bordering on a pout, but I don't care. My blood's pumping too fast and my heart is hammering in my chest. Everything is happening almost too fast.

"The hell are you talking about?" The response is too hushed and husky for my tastes.

"You're not THAT clueless..." His hand moves to my bare chest to hold himself up as he leans closer and shifts.

Almost instinctively I reach up and grip his hips, dragging him into my lap. His laugh is happy, melodious, and pure Collin as he settle for straddling my hips and grinning down at me. I leave one hand on his hip and stare up at him almost helplessly. Idly, he runs a hand down my cheek, tracing the 5'oclock that I know is there.

"See? I knew you weren't that clueless." He murmurs, still smiling at me like a damn kid in a candy store.

"Course I'm not." I mutter with a mild scowl. "But I'm not one to get my hopes up."

I mentally curse myself when he blinks bown at me, all wide eyed and innocent. Then he gives me a shy smile and shifts, resting fully ontop of me and burying his face in my neck. A pleasant warmth spreads through me as I slide one hand to the small of his back and the other to thread in the strands of spun gold that make up his hair and allow myself to sink into the embrace.

This was all I ever wanted from Collin. I wanted him; not his body or touch, just the angel whose smile seemed to make everything else seems dull and grey in comparison. To hold him and feel his heartbeat and feel his breathe against my neck.

I close my eyes and lean my head against Collin's, content to fall asleep like this, despite the fact that we can't. As if on cue, he slides lower with a sigh, resting his head on my collarbone. No further words are spoken and I allow darkness to overcome me without a single protest.


	4. Morning Coffee

I wake to the wonderful smell of freshly brewed coffee. My eyes crack oepn and the first thing I realise is that my neck really fucking hurts. Wincing, I sit up, rubbing a spot at the base of my neck that had been pressed against the hard arm of the chair I'd been lounging in.

In that instant, I realise something else: I'm not in my apartment. Blinking I search my memory for a hint as to what bozo might've gotten me drunk enough to come home with him. Then the previous night hits me like a slap in the face, causing my cheeks to burn in mild embarrassment.

Before I can even consider moving, a steaming mug of black liquid invades my line of vision. With a blink I glance up even as I take it, noting how deep blue athletic pants hang low enough to show off his hips. finally, my eyes meet his and he smiles warmly at me. I can practically feel my eyes soften in response, the slight movement almost automatic.

When my eyes slide shut, there's a slightly smug look on my face, but it's more teasing than anything, really. I hear him scoff as I take a small drink of my coffee; it's dark, so it seems me and Collin have similar tastes at least. I both feel and hear him settle next to me and grin to myself.

"Geez... You act as if you just conquered the whole goddamn world." He almost sounds indignant. Almost.

"Cus it feels as if I did." I respond, craking my eyes open and moving my free hand to gently rub his scalp.

Collin makes a soft humming sound in the back of his throat. "...Feels nice..."

I set my cup on one of the side tables and close me eyes again. "When's your shift tonight?"

"Same time as yours."

"When's mine?"

"Seven." I can hear the mild amusement in his voice.

"What time is it?"

"Mm... Just ten."

"Ah, good."

I let my hand fall away as he shifts and stands, my eyes cracking open to follow the movement. Smiling almost shyly at me, he crawls into my lap and nudges my chin with his nose. Arching a brow, I tilt my head a little and nearly lose it when his lips press against my throat.

"What to do in eight hours..." he murmurs, running his tongue over the side of my neck and drawing a shiver from me.

"I'm sure you'll think of something." Just at the implications, my eyes hood and my voice dips lower.

"Hmm... I want to explore. I wanna see if what people say is true."

My brow lifts yet again, my face seemingly calm, but inside I feel as if he rammed a sledgehammer into my gut. "What're they saying now?"

"...Oh... Just this and that about a few of your piercings and tattoos." His voice holds fake innocence which makes my eyes narrow.

Just as I open my mouth to respond, he runs a devious thumb over my nipple, the nub wreathed in a ring of onyx, and I bite my lip and clench my eyes shut to keep from embarassing myself. Collin chuckles and pulls back slightly, undoubtably to watch me as he continues to rub the nipple mercilessly. I manage to crack my eyes open, only to catch him staring at me, a light blush highlighting his cheeks.

"Damn, Ace..." His voice is husky and his eyes dark.

I lift a hand and lace my fingers through his sun-kissed hair. "Sneaky bastard..."

"Ace..."

Almost magically the space between us dissapears and a part of me lets out a contented sigh. We're meant to be like this: together and eager to hear the others voice and feel the other's touch. That dingle kiss is enough to leave me panting and aching when he breaks it, wringing a small noise of protest from me.

"...God, you need to stop smoking Gail's cigarettes." Collin mutters, grinning at me.

I give him a dirty look, but he just laughs when others would pee their pants. His laughter fades as he traces my features with his fingers, gently rubbing the dark stuble on my face. If I were a cat, I deffinately would've purred. Instead, I make a contented noise in the back of my throat and clsoe my eyes. We have plenty of time for sex. Right now, I'm content to merely be with my angel.


	5. Blood Red Wine

Collin and I are on seperate ends of the room tonight, but that's alright. Even as we move to the music in order to please others we're practically seducing each other all over again; each move is full of promise and sensuality. The crowd tonight seems to love it, especially a man who I hadn't noticed until I looked right at him. Nobody could have noticed the split second that I faltered, but he did, his smirk widening before he lifted a black cigarette to his lips.

He's dressed in a deep, blood red. I can tell cus the light seems to accentuate it instead of merely reflecting off it. Cloves are perfect for this man, dark and extreme like his eyes and hair. There's an asian look to him, but I can't quite tell cus the routine comes first. Every so often, however, I look out of the corner and he's still there, smoking like a fucking chimney.

Once we finish, Collin and I head into the back, me to take a break and him to prepare for his solo routine. He plants a soft kiss on my cheek and I pause, blinking while he chuckles and continues to get ready. Such easy affection and smiles; I envy him. I allow my lips to curve in a small, rare, smile that makes his entire face light up.

Then, with a quick hug, and an even faster kiss, he leaves, dashing out the door to get to work again. I chuckle tomyself as I was the makeup off my face and pour water over my burning chest. The mesh sucks it up greedily, causing me to sigh as relief washes through me, like food to a starving man. Heaving a second sigh, I drape my coat over my shoulder and head out of the dressing room and out into darkness and sound.

My eyes fix on the stage and I almost automatically reach for my cigs before remembering that I left them on the table at Collin's, resulting in a couple, grouchy explitives. Out of nowhere, a warm body presses against my barely clothed back and an arm wraps around me, placing a cigarette to my lips. I've practically turned to stone in his arms as I part my lips and take a drag on the cig. Cloves.

"My, my... So wary." His voice is low and sensual with just a hint of accent that I can't place.

"Thanks, I needed a smoke." I respond, forcing myself to relax in his arms, lest I risk breaking a bone from how tense I've become.

His free hand slides up my covered stomach. "Yin and Yang... Day and night... Purest angel and sinful devil. You're two sides to the same coin, perfect for one another."

I say nothing as his hand slides lower, gently rubbing the bare flesh between my shirt and pants. My eyes are focused on Collin, who smiles mischeviously at me and winks, which is as much reassurance and consent as I'm gonna get while he's up on stage. The hand dissapears for an instant before he tucks a wad of paper into the waistband of my pants before his hand cups my chin, tracing the line of my jaw.

"...Meet me out back after your toutine." With that, he's gone, leaving behind his black cigarette, still caught between my lips, and a spot of warmth where skin covered by heated leather had once been.

Arching a brow I draw out the neat little roll of bills and begin to count hundred after hundred. The cigarette nearly falls from my mouth when I reach the end of the small stack. I haven't been bought in nearly two years.It's kept steap cus of the role I play in protecting the Boys' turf. Still, I'm available, so if someone forks out the cash, I have to put out.

Heaving a weary sigh, I take another drag on the cigarette before sliding my jacket on and slipping the cash into my pocket. I can't tell wether Collin will be upset or amused, or perhaps a little of both. Instead of worrying about it, I lean against the wall and finish off that dark cancer stick, watching the rest of Collin's hour long routine in silence.


	6. Spade

In the locker room I prepare in silence, barely reacting when Collin enters, laughing and bounding over to wrap his arms around my waist. When I don't react, he hesitantly pulls away and moves to my side, frowning. I don't turn, merely sliding on my jewlery silently.

"...What'd that bastard do?" he growls, causing me to pause and turn my head to blink at him in confusion.

"...What?"

"Oh, come on, Ace. I know you. It isn't normal for you to freak out when some random guy gropes you." He responds, smiling and resting a hand on my shoulder.

"He bought me, Collin."

I swear his eyes go as round as dinnerplates. His mouth falls open for a instant before he bites his lip and frowns. Almost absently he begins to fasten some of the buckles on my pants and top as I continue to fasten chains and slide on cuffs.

"Damn... He was hot, too. Lucky bastard. You'd better give me details when you get back." he murmurs with a small pout.

I turn slightly and give him a small smile to show my appreciation without speaking. He seems to get the message because he smiles back, only wider and he adds a possessive squeeze of my ass for good measure. Smirking he gives me a light peck and a wink.

"...Ana don't smoke any more of his cigarettes." he adds, snickering before turning and beginning to change into his more comfortable serving clothes.

Chuckling I quickly reapply my makeup and stride out the door, knowing that Collin will undoubtably watch. His act is all pure, alluring sensuality, while mine is all raw intensity. The music in the background is harsher, as is the blood red lighting. My pants are tight, but broken in and worn, making them easier to move in. This pair has four vertical slits, each running from the top of a tigh or buttocks all the way down the leg, each held together with black lacings.

The teasing triangles of bared flesh have the desired effect, I can tell from the commotion the crowd's making. No doubt that the barely there fishnet top, which hardly covers my chest, merely adds to the effect as the music kicks up and I begin to move. The cries and the cheers of the crowd only get louder, so I chance a glance around the floor and spot the man I was looking for. One of those dark cigarettes hangs limp and forgotten between his lips as he takes me in, our eyes meeting for an instant. His eyes hold longing, a smouldering passion, and lust. That look threatens to affect my dancing ability, so I close my eyes and continue to move.

What's supposed to be an hour seems to compress into a few moments, cus before I know it the music stops and I hop off stage to retrieve my jacket. I'm more who people expect me to be tonight, all threats and viscious looks. Untouchable. All of them except that one man know to keep their distance. That one, anonymous man who just doesn't seem evne the slightest bit phased.

Collin catches my arm and hands me a glass of bourbon with a grin. Nodding, I take a drink and end up downing half the glass. I hear him chuckle and arch a brow, only resulting in him laughing a bit louder and waving the subject off.

"Mmm... You're hot." his thumbs catch in the lacings of my pants, rubbing the bared skin and causing my breath to hitch.

"I try." Collin blinks at me for a moment before he bursts out laughing.

"Arrogant bastard!" I smile and pat his cheek, tracing the line of his jaw with my thumb afterwards.

"I don't know how long I'll be tonight. You can stop by my place if you find yourself missing the smell of my nasty cologne. The code to the keybox is five, two, five, zero."

His pout is almost instantaneous. "But I like your cologne."

"Only cus you have to smell it all the time."

"I'm not complaining." he replies with a grin before taking my now empty glass and reaching behind him to pick up my jacket, handing it to me before heading towards the bar. "I'll cya later, Ace."

"Yeah..." I watch him go before reluctantly sliding on my coat and disappearing out the back door.

He's there, just as he said he would be. In the light of the streetlamp, he looks more hansome than alluring, elegant and proud despite the fact that he's leaning against a building in the middle of Old Town. I let the door click shut behind me, at which he looks up as I lean back against one of the dirty walls, eyes slipping shut.

"Ace... Hunter of the night... Accented by blood and darkness. Instead of marring your beauty it accents and sharpens it, making you irrisistable." he murmurs, sounding more like a psychologist than a man who frequents the streets.

"...So, you know my name. What's yours?" I respond, making sure to keep my voice cool and professional sounding.

"Spade."

I open my eyes and arch a brow at this. "Spade?"

"Yes." he suddenly moves, pushing away from the wall and moving with clear intent and purpose until he stands a few inches away from me, seeming to take me in as one would a sculpture at some damn art museum. "And I have you. For tonight, you're mine."

I instinctively press myself back against the wall as he reaches forward and laces his fingers through the hair at the back of my neck. Spade leans forward, staring at me as if he's ready to lunge at me and devour me. He's one of those men who loves power and enjoys proving he has power over others. I can see it in his eyes.

"Deep amber..." his words shake me from my thoughts. "Not brown. Flecked with gold."

"What are you, a poet or something?" I respond, a little uneasy and slightly impatient.

"Come with me." That said, he releases me and heads out of the alley and into the street.

Scowling, I follow only to pause as he gets into a black car. Heaving a sigh I slide into the seat next to him, noting, absently, that the interior is black leather. I'm tired. Afterall, it's been a long day, so I lean back into the plush seat and close my eyes.

Almost immediately I feel hot breath against my neck, soon followed by an equally hot mouth. With a soft noise, I tilt my head, allowing him even better access like a good little whore. Chuckling the bastard moves his mouth to nibble on my earlobe, toying with the rings there.

"Hn... Such a good actor, too..." he murmurs, mouth tracing the line of my jaw. "I don't want an act... I want you to fight me... To make me force you into submission."

I give a low growl in the back of my throat and jerk my head away, glaring narrowly at him. The dickhead has the nerve to laugh, and I spot a wicked gleam in his eye. Oh hell no.

"I won't play your games." I bite out and, for the tenth time, wish I'd just given the fucking money back.

"Good. I want you like this. Brutal. Masculine. Sinful and attractive in ways only Ace is." he murmurs, his eyes full of intensity and longing.

His voice sends a jolt of excitement down my spine and straight to my crotch. I narrow my eyes despite the jump in my pulse and scoot back a little. Spade follows, gripping my thighs brutally. The traitorous organ between my legs stirrs and I growl, more at it than the rich, domineering... Sexy bastard before me.

"Yes, like this." he practically purrs the words. "You must be the great assassin I keep hearing about. Lean, firm, ferocious. Gods, I can't wait."

If I wasn't hard before, I am now. Almost painfully so, in fact. I bite my lip and grimace, trying my damndest not to make a sound. The bastard chuckles and slides between my thighs before I have time to resist. I buck, only to hiss when he grinds right back against me.

"B-bastard..." I manage, pissed at myself cus my breathe's already coming fast.

His dark eyes bore into me as I attempt to scoot further back and encounter the arm of the seat. I give him a dark look, threatening pain if he comes any closer, and he laughs softly, rubbing the underside of my captured thighs. Shivering I once again attempt to break free, but it's halfhearted at best.

"Sir, we've arrived." The driver's voice is like a splash of cold water across my senses.

Spade scowls, hovering over me for another moment before heaving a sigh and pulling away. "...Thank you."

Almost immediately I straighten and run my fingers through my hair, putting it easily back into place. When the valet opens the my door, I exit and move to lean against the wall of the building we've pulled up to. The pack of cigarettes I stole from Spade earlier is in my hand before I realise it. Soon, a black cancer stick is smoking between my lips.

The asian man speaks in hushed tones to his driver before the man nods and drives off. He turns, eyes smouldering as he takes in my pose, one leg bent with the foot braced against the wall, and I return the look cooly. I take another drag on the cigarette, closing my eyes as I do so.

My cock is still hard in my pants, but I'm hoping it fades a little before we enter the hotel. I hear him approach and let my eyes slide open to watch him. Spade seems to pause for a moment before smiling.

"Hmm... Cool and in control again. Shall we go inside?" he smirks, and I want nothing better than to wipe the look off his face.

Instead I heave a sigh, pushing away from the wall, and flick away my half smoked cig. "Yeah... Sure."


End file.
